


The return

by wanderingsmith



Series: Claim [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: AU - Thorin is not king, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 10:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14692593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsmith/pseuds/wanderingsmith
Summary: Dís had her caravan dismount and find places to rest in the reasonably empty courtyard and then moved quickly in the direction she'd been pointed.  Glad for the travelling trousers instead of the stately dressed she'd soon be back in, she took the stairs two at a time to stretch her muscles, too long held still in a saddle.  She reached the top and looked around for her usually easy to spot tall brother.  Frowning at the lack of loose dark hair flying like a flag in the jerky breeze, she was distracted from her search by a nearby authoritative shout.The high voice already had her curious, long before she clapped eyes on a *halfling*.





	The return

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I play with 'em.

Dís slowly rode through to the almost-restored gates of Erebor, trying to deny the way her heart clenched with memories, both good and horrible. When she'd made herself allow her boys to follow the king her brother, there had been certainty, at the back of her mind, that she would never again see any of them alive. To see an Erebor raven carried to her by an Ered Luin guard, and hear that the Lonely Mountain was free of the wyrm, and her family was *safe*.. She hadn't been able to respond for long moments. 

And now here they were, the last of Durin's folk in exile, riding back into Erebor.

She had to admit, she'd rather expected her brother to be waiting. But the damage still visible in the gates, the sound of urgent shouts and rock and metal-work filled the air, along with the early bite of winter in the breeze, all told the dwarrowdam in her that there were far more important things than ceremony. Nonetheless, the first dwarf to try to hurry by her after she dismounted her pony was snagged by the shoulder. Not recognizing him, and knowing that most dwarrows would not know her image, she asked simply, "Where is your lord?"

He frowned at her, looking harried and distracted, jerking his chin up at the top of stairs off next to the great gates, "Up there." And then rushed off on his errand.

Dís had her caravan dismount and find places to rest in the reasonably empty courtyard and then moved quickly in the direction she'd been pointed. Glad for the traveling-trousers instead of the stately dressed she'd soon be back in, she took the stairs two at a time to stretch her muscles, too long held still in a saddle. She reached the top and looked around for her usually easy to spot tall brother. Frowning at the lack of loose dark hair flying like a flag in the jerky breeze, she was distracted from her search by a nearby authoritative shout. 

The high voice already had her curious, long before she clapped eyes on a *halfling*. Who was giving a fair imitation of a high-pitched roar at a group of dwarrows that she could now see were trying to guide what looked like a slightly damaged piece of the Great Gate into an empty section of wall, opposite from the open gate she'd ridden through.

What was a *halfling* doing ordering dwarrows in dwarven work?

And she could clearly see that everyone was obeying, from dwarrows she knew from Ered Luin, right to some clearly from the Iron Hills. And her brother was still not in view.

"HOLD it up, you lot! DORI! 2 ROPES TO THE LEFT!" 

She didn't realize she was approaching him until she heard him mutter to himself, "This is not working, it's- NO! DWALIN! Further SOUTH! AT LEAST-" They both flinched at the great boom of sound as a section of the piece broke off for no apparent reason and fell into the roped-off yard below it.

"Well that's done it. STAND DOWN! COMPANY TO ME! And now how do we secure this blasted thing for the winter..."

Fascinated, Dís didn't think to interrupt as the small creature, wearing a large dagger as though it were a sword, and a Durin-blue surcoat over what.. Mahal! that *was* mithril!... She shook her head, following the rather thin halfling's eyes to an odd outcropping far above the empty gate frame.

"Bofur."

She started at the conversational tone, then saw a dwarf she half-remembered from the day the Quest had left nod to the strange creature, "Aye?"

"Is that rock sound?"

Dís' brows raised at what sounded like a question that should go to a guildmaster.

"I'd have to see it."

"Go."

And with that the dwarf with the floppy hat took off at a run without hesitation under Dís' bemused eyes.

"GET ME Thorin!"

*That* made her jerk to attention. The order had seemed to be sent to the general air, but she saw several dwarrows look up from below, and could see a trail of shouts and scurries leading into the mountain. Well finally.

When she turned back though, it was to a curly head turning, and eyes widening at the sight of her.

"Who-" Before she could answer, she saw him stop and straighten, recognition in his still-aggravated, but un-dwarvenly calm eyes. "Lady Dís."

She nodded slowly, gazing at the beardless features. She hadn't had enough contact with his race to judge his age, though his eyes were not young, and the dark shadows underneath spoke of more than the Great Gate causing concern. "I am she. Who-"

"Bilbo!"

She and the halfling both turned at the familiar shout, her brother the king hurrying up the stairs with dark eyes of his own, along with new scars crossing his features. She watched as he rushed up the last steps to the halfling and wrapped him in a hug. And she knew that hug; knew only the closest of family was privy to it. 

"You are unhurt?"

"Yes yes, of course. The damned fault in the thing gave way when we were *this* close to setting it to rest!"

"Ghivashel. We will find a means to fix the gate; you know this."

"Aye. I know."

Seemingly forgotten by the halfling and un-noticed by her erstwhile sibling, Dís stood with wide eyes and watched her brother; and apparently his One. Whom a dwarf of Erebor had called his lord.

"Bilbo. We heard the noise. I take it your luck did not hold?"

Dís shrank back to try to watch more of the show without interfering. Watched Balin and Dwalin, along with a gorgeous example of dwarfhood she also remembered leaving with the quest, come up the steps much more calmly than Thorin, all frowning at the mess of rubble down below.

The halfling, whom she now assumed was named Bilbo, pulled out of her clingy brother's hold enough to turn to the king's adviser, "Yes, it did. I have Bofur looking at that rock up there, I was thinking we could..."

The tired group discussed alternatives to make a gate to keep any marauding orcs out of their mountain, and Dís watched the dynamics. Coming to the undeniable conclusion that the halfling was the one giving the orders. Not the king.

"Why is the halfling ruling Erebor?"

Watching the group spin to face her, Dís smiled sardonically at the shocked looks of her kin, both close and far. Thorin's stepping over quickly to embrace her with an exclamation was no surprise, and she gladly returned it, but the moment he pulled back, she glared at Balin, usually the most reasonable one. 

This time he flinched at her glare. "Lady Dís. Bilbo... He Claimed Thorin. Undeniable and publicly. His right to rule is unquestionable."

At that, she turned her glare to her brother. Who did not flinch. Instead, he jerked his head up for a moment, and her eyes widened at the teethmarks exposed before he looked her in the eyes again and gave her a small smile that spoke more of peace than anything; and then stepped back behind his mate. Who was watching her carefully.

"I apologize if this is a shock, lady Dís. but I don't have leisure to discuss family matters just now. The first winter storm is on the horizon, and the patrols report still too many orcs for my peace of mind." He gave her a rough dwarven bow, "Balin can show you your temporary quarters. I'm afraid your old ones are still in need of repair. And we have places ready for y- *our* people. Hopefully we can speak with the evening meal. Dori, with us, please." And with another half-bow, the little creature stalked down the stairs with her brother and the gorgeous dwarf following on his heels.

And Dís slowly turned to her brother's old adviser. "Claimed. And you did not stop it?"

"Stop it? Dís.. Thorin could have defended *himself*..."

The trailing words were not exactly surprising; she'd rather thought it herself, looking at Thorin and the halfling side by side. "So my brother chose to give himself over to one he desired. That is no reason to make the halfling king."

She watched Balin and Dwalin exchange flinches that made her tense with worry, and then Dwalin apparently lost the toss and answered her implied question. "When we got to Erebor... The gold.. We all started to..."

She finished for him, cold fear making her tone dead-sounding, "Fall to gold sickness."

"..Aye."

Balin picked up when his brother went silent, "Bilbo.. says he was affected as well.. But quite obviously not nearly as much. When we all stopped paying attention to dangers.. and becoming.. unreasonable..." She nodded that he need not elaborate, not needing or wanting, just at this juncture, to hear the details of what had transpired. "Bilbo.. Bilbo regained his senses. And when we wouldn't listen to his pleas.. He stopped pleading and started ordering. Thorin had told him, back after the Claiming, that he *could* have taken leadership. And so he did. He shouted and snarled and slapped us 'round the head until we heard his authority.. and agreed that honour dictated he had the right to claim leadership. Even Thorin. He led us through confrontation with the men and elves, and then through the battle, and repairs." She held the serious look he gave her, "In those first few days.. Thorin was still.. taken by the gold. And the damned Stone. Bilbo's orders were the only thing that got through him. His authority the only thing that kept Thorin's paranoia and.."

"Foolish bad temper?"

Balin didn't smile at the jibe, grimacing instead. "Yes, that as well. He luckily never quite lost track of the fact that Bilbo was in command now, so his roared orders to attack overwhelming forces.. were countermanded without consequence. We owe him Erebor, Lady Dís. And the continued survival and sanity of.. your brother." He glanced back to where the others had gone and Dwalin laid a commiserating hand on his shoulder, sharing a small, rough-edged smile before passing it to Dís, "Even now.. he's actually.. happy, did you notice, Dís? He runs all around Erebor, doing just as much as Bilbo to try to get things running smoothly. But everyone knows Bilbo has the final word. Including Thorin. And he *smiles*, Cousin. Calm and happy and.. frequently, clumsily, ignored as people rush to demand answers from Bilbo, and he only begins to frown when Bilbo begins to look too exhausted."

Dís nodded. The shock wearing off and replaced with a cold dose of reality. Thorin might be a natural leader in troubles, but he had always needed steadier help for the less martial side of kingship. She'd simply never thought he would be willing to make that help public. She'd expected to harry him privately, with Balin and a few others. She'd long given up on a spouse joining their crew.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written... heck.. 4 years ago, now, I guess, but the section that come before this in sequence.. are not near so finished.. so this sat there until [Nyruserra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyruserra/pseuds/Nyruserra) made me think of it and on re-reading, I thought, what the hell, this stands not so terribly all on its own..


End file.
